A Rose Of Cinders
by Katie21
Summary: Please review? Pretty Please? Based on Cinderella: Roswell style... M/L + CC
1. Prologue

**Story:** A Rose Of Cinders

**Author:** Lizzie_is_a_Dreamer! a.k.a. Katie

**Disclaimer:** I don't own the story "Cinderella" or the show "Roswell"… Happy now?

**Summary:** Cinderella – Roswell style – with a twist. Based upon the challenge by Dia.

**Reviews:** Yes, please! A lot! The more reviews I get, the sooner I update!!! *hint, hint* :D

**A Rose Of Cinders**

_Prologue_

Once upon a time, in a country far, far, _very_ far away from here, there lived a _very_ beautiful girl. Her name was Elizabeth Parker, but everyone close to her called her Liza. She didn't have many friends, for she was never allowed to leave the house. Her best friends were her brother, Alexander, and the girl from next-door, Maria DeLuca. 

Alex and Liza's mother had died in childbirth six years ago, when Liza had been ten and Alex eleven years old. Their little brother, an afterthought, had been born dead. Liza, Alex and their dad had been devastated, and had grieved for over a year. Their father often went on business trips, unable to stay home, where everything reminded him of Christina, his former wife. 

Alex and Liza were left to take care of their own, but their father only left them after making sure that they could go to Amelia DeLuca in cases of emergencies. Their neighbor was always willing to cook for two more, and she loved the interaction between Maria, Alex and Liza. They were incredibly close, inseparable actually, and even one who didn't know them could easily notice the tight bond between the three of them. 

Four years ago, their father had brought a woman and a girl about Liza's age back from one of his weekly trips. He announced to no one in particular that he would marry Bertha, and that she and her daughter Tess would come and live with them. 

Liza and Alex had looked at each other, absolute horror etched on their faces. Bertha was a rather fat woman, and it was even impossible for Maria, who always tried to see the good in the looks of people, to find _anything_ concerning her attractive. Bertha had fierce eyebrows, lips that were drawn in a thin line and eyes that could freeze the sun with their coldness. 

Tess hadn't been more gifted with her looks than her mother had been. She may not be as ugly as Bertha, but her eyes were just as cold, her breasts fake and too large for a twelve-year-old and her hair resembled straw that had been curled with a pair of defect tweezers. 

There wasn't much that Liza and Alex could do to keep them from moving in, though. Their father had decided to marry Bertha within two weeks, and there was absolutely nothing that could change his mind: he didn't even bother to listen to Liza, who'd always been his eye apple, and Alex's very vivid speeches left him cold. 

Bertha and Tess immediately took over the control in the Parker residence, bossing everyone around. Alex just huffed at them when they commanded him, not willing to be nice to the – according to him – invaders of their house and peace. He didn't bother to answer any of their questions (or rather, demands) and tried to ignore them as much as possible. 

Liza also had much trouble trying to remain polite to both Tess and Bertha, and even though she - just like Maria - always tried to see the good aspects of people, she wasn't able to discover any nice features or traits of character in neither one of them. 

Alex kept trying to reason with their dad about his sudden needs and wants, but it was useless. Their father seemed different, somehow changed. He was no longer the warm and loving man they used to know, but had turned into an emotionless person, numb, almost. 

All the hope Maria and Liza had for a marriage between Amelia DeLuca and Jeffrey Parker, who'd always liked each other, had fled the moment her father decided that no one was allowed on his wedding with Bertha, except Tess and Bertha herself. 

To say that the years that followed were horrible would be an understatement. They were often stuck with Bertha and Tess because of their father being away on business trips. Alex believed that Tess did everything in her power to make their lives a living hell.

Tess had nabbed both of their rooms and was currently using one for her countless dresses and make up, and one for her bed and other possessions. She had a bathroom of her own since her mother didn't find it fitting for her to share one with Liza and Alex. 

All of Liza's dresses had been given to Tess, who put the ones she liked into her own closet, and burned the other ones, her face twisted in a grimace of distaste and disgust. 

Bertha and Tess weren't too hard on Alex in the beginning, but when he spoke up for his little sister, their whole demeanor towards him changed. They confiscated his clothes, sold most of them, and burnt the ones that held no value. 

Liza and Alex were ought to sleep on some straw in the kitchen, close to the fireplace, between the ashes and cinders. They only had a thin cotton blanket, and often cuddled up together to keep each other warm. 

Bertha and Tess tended to use Liza and Alex as their own personal servants. Liza and Alex had to cook, set the table, work in the gardens, clean the house and do all the other nasty chores for which Bertha and Tess were too lazy. Liza also had to fill Tess's bath, wash her hair, dress her and put her make up: a very tough job. 

Alex and Liza weren't allowed to leave the house without permission, which was only granted when they had to shop for groceries and other errands. 

Every Wednesday and Saturday night, Maria would sneak into the kitchen to see them and keep them somewhat in touch with the outside world. They looked forward towards Maria's visits, eager to hear more of Amelia and Maria's little brother, Domenic. 

Maria would gossip and speculate about the girls in town and tell them the latest news about the war against Ceria, that had been going on for six years. Often they would just chit-chat with each other about everything and nothing, or discuss their gifts. 

Almost everyone in Antar, their country, had been gifted with a power, born with some sort of gift. Some of the gifts were barely noticeable, others were very prominent and powerful. 

Alex was gifted with a logic mind, and he quickly saw answers to the most difficult problems. His logical way of thinking enabled him to think fast, and come up with funny jokes that could crack Liza and Maria up for hours. 

Maria's gift was even less perceptible but all the more amusing. She could easily talk to people, connect with them, comfort them when they were hurt or sad and she was great with little children. 

Liza's gift must have been the most special gift of all of them. She could 'talk' with animals. It wasn't really talking, but somehow she was able to connect with animals and send them some of her feelings, thoughts or some images and pictures.   
  
All animals loved her, and she loved them. When she had been little, she had been a little afraid of spiders, but she quickly learned that there was nothing to fear. Spiders were fun to play with, and were smarter than many thought. 

She had an incredible good relationship with the birds and mice in and around the house. When she had to scrub the floors, they'd often accompany her, the birds happily performing their latest symphonies for her and the mice listening and watching with friendliness in their beady eyes. They were befriended, all of them, and tried their best to keep each other happy. 

Maria had been convinced that Bertha or Tess had mind-warped Jeff into marrying Bertha and saying all the things he had said. He showed all the symptoms, she asserted. Tiredness, insensibility, numbness, sudden changes in behavior… All of these were very prominent present in the case of Jeffrey Parker. 

When Alex had tried to reason with her, telling her that their dad had already been dead-tired when he had left, she would use his arguments to support her own statement. She'd say that Jeff's tiredness had probably been what had made him more vulnerable and defenseless against a mind-warp in the first place. 

Maria usually _felt_ people due to her gift. She could feel their presence, their essence. Bertha and Tess were giving her bad 'vibes' as she used to call her feelings, and that was why she didn't trust them. She also knew how Jeff's presence used to feel, but after his trip his presence had somewhat changed, altered and weakened. What was left was just a vague impression of what his essence used to be. 

Alex did see the logic in her speech, but he didn't want to trust his mind this time, he didn't want to believe that his dad had been stupid enough to let himself get mind-warped. 

Maria's retort was simple: did he want to believe that _this_ was his dad, then?

When their argument had been about to escalate, Liza had intervened, telling them that it didn't matter whether or not their dad had been mind-warped since there was nothing to be done about it.

The only way a mind-warp could be broken or stopped was by killing the person who was performing it or weakening the person so badly that he or she wouldn't have any power left to continue or carry on with the mind-warp. Of course, when the person self would decide to stop the mind-warp it would also cease to exist. Since Liza, Alex and Maria weren't murderers or torturers they could only wait for the mind-warp to stop; there was nothing else left to do for them.

They lived this way for four years, putting up with Bertha's rudeness and Tess's jealousy and hate. Something was about to change drastically, for all of them, and it wasn't to be stopped…


	2. Chapter 1

**A Rose Of Cinders**  
  
_Chapter 1_  
  
Liza softly hummed along with the melody of the bird's songs while wiping the floor. It was early, and the sun had yet to rise. She loved to be awake at this hour of the day, to be able to finish her chores without Tess or Bertha bothering her. She'd sit down when the sun would come up, watching the sky turn purple and violet, red and pink, yellow and orange, and seeing the moon slowly dissolve and disappear.   
  
The thing she loved most about the rising of the sun was how the world around her would come alive. Horsemen and coaches would ride on the main road close to their yard and everywhere around her windows would be opened and laughter could be heard. There wasn't any laughter in the Parker residence, though. When Tess and Bertha would awaken, they would be in a very bad mood, even in a worse one than the moods they usually had. That was why Liza dreaded yet loved the daybreak, the coming of dawn, and all of its consequences.   
  
Lost in her musings, she softly patted a mouse on its back with her broom, silently challenging it, daring it to play with her. The mouse squeaked quasi indignant and tried to climb onto her leg but failed miserably. Liza's leg was too slippery and steep for the mouse and it kept sliding down when it reached her calf.   
  
Liza quietly laughed, cautiously as to not awaken anyone, and bended forward. She picked the little fellow up and placed it upon her shoulder, allowing it to nibble at her earlobe for a little while, giggling at the tickling sensation it caused. When the mouse softly bit her she gave a little scream, but quickly berated herself for making such a noise.

She sat down and let the mouse descend her shoulder and leap into her lap. A few other mice joined them and together they sat and watched the sun beginning its lonesome slow climb across the horizon. They were silent, somehow revering the rainbow of colors, the wonder of the rising and the awakening of the world. It was one of Tess's screams that disturbed the peaceful silence.   
  
"Liza!"   
  
Liza quickly stood up, gathering her broom and bucket. She practically ran into the house, knowing it wasn't wise to keep Tess waiting too long. She nearly bumped into Alex, who just smiled at her apology and took the bucket and broom from her.   
  
She arrived in Tess's first bedroom, completely out of breath, and noticed that the curtains were still drawn.   
  
"Open the curtains, and then make me some breakfast," Tess commanded her. "Scrammed eggs and two rolls dressed with sugar."   
  
Bertha entered the room, her hair tousled and tangled, full of little knots, and dressed in her flannel pyjama, that was hanging loosely around her large body.   
  
"Now where are your manners, honey?" she asked in a mock chastising tone.   
  
Tess smiled conspiratorially at her mother before directing Liza.   
  
"Of course, I forgot…" she began in a sugary sweet voice, the syrup almost literally dripping off of it.   
  
She gave Liza a fake sympathetic smile.   
  
"Now!"   
  
Liza sighed, and tried her best not to show how hurt she was inside.   
  
She nodded, not trusting her own vocal cords to be as emotionless as her appearance, and went downstairs to prepare breakfast for both Tess and Bertha. She also made a few slices of bread for Alex and herself, putting his onto the kitchen table, covering it with a linen cloth to prevent flies from sitting on it.   
  
She made her way upstairs again and served both women their breakfast. Tess ordered her to fill the bath with warm water and retrieve her red dress out of her closet. After dragging five buckets of warm water upstairs, silently wincing every time she spilled some water on the recently scrubbed floors, she had completely filled the large bath.   
  
She was curling Tess's hair when Bertha – now fully dressed and made up, but still very unattractive – barged into Tess's bathroom. Both Liza and Tess looked up, alarmed, for they had never seen Bertha as flushed and excited as this. Her eyes were opened wide, an excitement mingling with the ever-present coldness, her cheeks rosy, mocking the rouge that now looked ridiculous, and her nostrils were flaring as rapid as a ventilator. Usually, Bertha was the role model of a boring, overly controlled person, but she was close to bouncing up and down at this moment.   
  
She ran over to Tess, wildly waving with a letter with a broken seal in her hand.   
  
"Look! Sweetie, this is your chance!" Bertha barely managed to say in between of her breaths for fresh air. "This is _our_ chance! You're going to meet the Prince! The _Prince_! she stressed.   
  
Tess gave a squeal of delight and started bouncing along with her mother.   
  
Liza just kept quiet, standing in the background, her heart feeling oddly warm and tingly all of a sudden. Would the Prince come to their house? That would be great…   
  
She involuntarily shivered. She had met the Prince _once_, a long time ago – her mum had still been alive – but it had been enough to get her falling in love with him. She hadn't realized it at the time that the feelings she had were the ones of love, but she did now. 

She, Alex and Maria had sneaked out of their houses and had gone to the Great Plaza, where a carnival would be held. They'd never been to a carnival before, and were impressed and overwhelmed by all the new experiences and the diversity of people. They'd seen people spitting fire and there had been jugglers, dwarfs and women with beards.   
  
She sighed happily. The memory of that day was seared into her brain, not just because of the funfair, but mostly because of the boy she'd met that day.   
  
She'd lost Maria and Alex in the bustle, fuss and excitement and had been on the verge of a breakdown when a boy about her age had noticed her, his wonderful warm amber eyes worriedly examining her. He had asked her softly what was wrong and promised her – as genuine and sincere as promises of children are – that he would help her find them back.   
  
He had taken her hand, causing a surge of a tingly sort of energy to flood through her body, artilleries and veins, and had led her to a man in his thirties, who had taken her up on a stage. Maria and Alex saw her and rejoined them in no time.   
  
It wasn't until she, Alex and Maria had hugged in the joy of being together again that she noticed the small, yet very precious crown on top of the man's head, and realized that he had to be the King. The King put his arm around the shoulder of the boy – Prince, Liza silently corrected herself – and winked at her, twice, a smile gracing his handsome features. The King and the Prince turned around and walked away, and she lost sight of them in the crowd.   
  
Maria, Alex and she just stood there, mouths agape, watching them leave, disperse into the fuss. Suddenly they appeared out of the crowd once more, and the Prince had looked back and smiled – a sort of a conspiratorially smile, meant for her – a smile that made his eyes light up and her heart beat a little faster.   
  
That day had been the best day of her life, despite of the severe punishment that had followed after her mum and Amelia had found out about it. It had been worth it, they all agreed, and they hadn't regretted their little trip for a single second. Until the present day, Liza had been looking forward to meet the boy, the Prince, again, to thank him for helping her and her friends, to look and get lost into his eyes just once more.   
  
Liza weakly smiled at the memory. She often thought back about that day, or to be really honest with herself, she often thought back about the Prince. How he would look nowadays, and whether or not he would recognize her, remember her. Maria had told her that the Prince was said to be really handsome. Soulful amber eyes, thick raven hair, a body to die for and full kissable lips... Liza remembered the eyes, but hadn't really paid attention to his other 'qualities' when they had met.   
  
She was shaken out of her reveries by the sound of Tess's high squeals. By that time, Bertha had regained some of her sensibility and had calmed down a little. In vain she tried to silence her daughter, but soon she realized that the only way to do that was to read the letter to her.   
  
She took a deep breath before starting her mission to quiet Tess, a very tough one, needless to say.   
  
"It's directed to every young girl in the Kingdom of Antar and across the borders," she enthusiastically began, "the Prince is giving a ball to find himself a young bride. Every girl is welcome and can take one companion along with her: her mother, father, friend or brother." Bertha read.   
  
Tess started another series of squeals and actually laughed out loud.   
  
Liza felt her heart swell even more, almost flooding over with joy and hope. _Every_ girl in the Kingdom was invited… 

So, she was also allowed to come, right? She grinned and turned her full attention back to the rest of the letter.   
  
"The ball is being held in two days, for three nights. The Prince promises to dance with as many girls as possible…" Bertha continued, looking significantly at Tess.   
  
"He'll love you, sweetie," she told her. "You know what this means?" she excitedly asked her daughter. "He'll take you as his bride, and you and _I_ are going to live at the palace!"   
  
Tess nodded eagerly. "We'll finally be able to leave this place!" she happily sighed. "And you, of course," she added, looking at Liza with disgust.   
  
Liza felt another pang of hurt, but in her heart she knew that Tess was just jealous… At least, that was what Alex asserted. She had no clue as to why Tess would be jealous at her, but Alex seemed pretty sure, and he was the one with the logic mind, right?   
  
She listened quietly while Tess and Bertha were making plans about the right dress, make-up and hairstyle. How she wished that her mother could be here right now, planning the ball with her… 

She sighed, and suddenly noticed that Tess and Bertha were silent now, and looking at her expectantly, as if they had just asked her something.   
  
"I'm… I'm sorry… Wh-What?" Liza hesitantly asked them, berating herself for stammering.   
  
"Get Tess's best dresses out of her closets," Bertha impatiently commanded her. "Now!"   
  
Liza cringed and was about to leave, but stopped dead in her tracks and turned around.   
  
Tess and Bertha were discussing the ball again, and she looked at them, envying Tess, and at the same time trying to be not so jealous.   
  
"Bertha?" she quietly asked, a hesitant hint in her voice.   
  
Bertha didn't hear her and just went on talking to Tess.   
  
"Bertha?" Liza asked again, a little louder and more self-confident this time.   
  
Bertha looked up, angry for being interrupted in her discussion and an impatient look disgracing on her face.   
  
"Yes?" she asked, rather furious.   
  
"Could I… could I" Liza stammered and she sighed, frustrated with her sudden inability to talk without stuttering. She took a good, long, deep breath before looking Bertha deeply in the eye.   
  
"Could I go as well?" she breathed out, shivering at the cold glares she was receiving from both Tess and Bertha.   
  
She expectantly looked at them.   
  
"Please?" she added.   
  



	3. Chapter 2

Previously, on Roswell... :D  
  
_T__he end of Chapter 1:_

  
"Bertha?" Liza quietly asked, a hesitant hint in her voice.   
  
Bertha didn't hear her and just went on talking to Tess.   
  
"Bertha?" Liza asked again, a little louder and more self-confident this time.   
  
Bertha looked up, angry for being interrupted in her discussion and an impatient look disgracing on her face.   
  
"Yes?" she asked, rather furious.   
  
"Could I… could I" Liza stammered and she sighed, frustrated with her sudden inability to talk without stuttering. She took a good, long, deep breath before looking Bertha deeply in the eye.   
  
"Could I go as well?" she breathed out, shivering at the cold glares she was receiving from both Tess and Bertha.   
  
She expectantly looked at them.   
  
"Please?" she added.   
  
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------   
  
**A Rose Of Cinders**  
  
_Chapter 2_  
  
Tess looked at her mother, a horrified expression disgracing her face. Her eyes were silently begging her mother, pleading her to forbid Liza from going along.   
  
Bertha looked at her, a conspiratorially smile drawing her lips in an even thinner line than usual. The wink she gave Tess was sufficient to let her know that Liza tagging along with them was out of the question.   
  
Tess released her breath, immensely relieved with this knowledge. She wasn't likely to admit it, but she envied Liza. She envied her beauty, her kindness, her intelligence, but – most of all – she was jealous of her gift.   
  
Tess hadn't been born with a gift, and did everything thing in her power to keep this a secret. Bertha used to blame her late father, since – according to her – he hadn't had any powers or a gift either.   
  
Bertha _did_ have a gift: she could mindwarp people, and she didn't hesitate to use it to achieve things, even though it could be very risky at times. Once, a man had found out he was being mindwarped by her, and had tried to have her arrested. They nearly managed to escape from the King's soldiers that were after them.   
  
Jeffrey Parker had been the perfect victim for Bertha's mindwarp: a rich widow with no close friends – except Amelia DeLuca, but she was eccentric, and nobody would believe her – and, besides that, he had been very tired and sad, something that made him extra vulnerable for the mindwarp. The only problem had been his children, Alexander and Elizabeth, but they were minors so there was nothing they could do.   
  
A problem.   
  
That was how Tess had always regarded Liza. As a huge problem. The only thing she was good enough for was cleaning the house and helping her dress up, which, Tess had to admit, she was very good at.   
  
Bertha turned towards Liza, smiling sweetly – a false smile, Tess knew – and raked a hand through her already tousled hair.   
  
-------------------------------------------------   
  
Liza swallowed and said a quick prayer. 'Please,' she begged, to no one in particular. 'Please, let me go.'   
  
Bertha smiled at her, but the smile didn't quite reach her eyes. Those cold, shallow pools of blue, impenetrable, remained as unmoved as they ever were. They didn't allow anyone to see her thoughts, her soul.   
  
And suddenly, Liza felt sorry for the woman. And regardless to the fact that she had every right to despise her, to _hate_ her for everything that she had done to her, she didn't. She pitied Bertha. She pitied her for the lack of feelings, for the lack of emotions, for the lack of _humanity_. And even though she knew she shouldn't feel sorry for her, that it was ridiculous, she did. It must be awful to not have feelings, to be unable to _love_.   
  
Bertha was still smiling, but somehow, it didn't appear as a smile to Liza, it being more ominous than friendly, more a smile of deceit than a smile of sincerity, genuineness.   
  
She swallowed again, trying to clear the lump that was rapidly forming in her throat. They weren't going to let her go to the ball. They weren't going to let her go.   
  
Bertha reached out to touch Liza's cheek, her long, thin fingers forming a major contrast with the rest of her huge body, the sharp, red-polished nails scraping painfully over the tender flesh of Liza's face. She slowly tilted her face to one side, studying it intently, the coldness of her bright blue eyes piercing right into Liza's soul.   
  
Liza shivered. Bertha's eyes were so different from Maria's, even though they were both a shade of bright blue. Maria's eyes were sparkling with hope and joy, whereas Bertha's were solid like ice. Maria's eyes expressed love, kindness and friendship, yet all Bertha's eyes were able to express was disgust and hate.   
  
Liza looked at Bertha while she was taking a deep breath, a breath that made her chest swell and that made her appear even huger.   
  
"Do you _really_ want to go?" Bertha asked her.   
  
Liza nodded slowly, cautious as to not get her hopes too high, or to look too eager.  
  
Tess watched, her worries growing with the minute, a frown creasing her forehead. It was obvious that she wasn't content with the way things were going. It would have even been obvious to a blind man, with all the negative energy she was radiating.   
  
Bertha gave Liza another one of those deceiving smiles before giving her her answer.   
  
"Well, in that case," she replied, "you can go."   
  
Liza looked at her, surprised with the sudden permission, a feeling of immense relief being uttered by a huge grin.   
  
"Now," Bertha said, without any sign of her earlier smile, "go and get Tess's dresses. We don't have all day, now do we?" She tapped impatiently with her right foot when Liza didn't show any sign of an answer.   
  
Liza quickly nodded, carefully trying to avoid any reason that would make Bertha retreat the earlier given permission by obliging as well as possible. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Tess looking at Bertha, her mouth agape, somewhat resembling a fish gulping for fresh air.   
  
Liza suppressed the urge to giggle and managed to keep a straight face. Even fishes didn't breath like this. They had gills, after all.   
  
She silently thanked her secret, unknown God and hurried to the door to find Alex smiling at her, switching amused looks between her and Tess. He bent forward and whispered in her ear:   
  
"Bet she can catch a lot of flies like that..."   
  
Liza softly giggled and playfully slapped Alex on his arm. She gently pushed him out of her way, retrieving seven of Tess's best dresses out of her closet.   
  
She sighed at the feeling of the soft fabric against her skin, silently admiring the material, the embroiled figures and pearls, the fringes, the lace and the suede. She especially liked a red dress that was made of silk. She softly let it slip between her fingers, imaging herself in it.   
  
What dress would she have to wear to the ball? The only clothes she had were the dress she was wearing now, and another very old, very worn and very tattered dress. This one was thin, the cotton smeared and dirtied with ash, filth and other stains that refused to disappear.   
  
Maybe she could borrow one of Tess's dresses. It wasn't like Tess could wear them all, right? Maybe the red one...   
  
She seriously doubted whether Tess would lend her one of her dresses. She hadn't seemed all too happy with the information that she'd go along.   
  
Maybe a dress of Maria's... Maria didn't have as many and as beautiful dresses as Tess had, but they were clean. Amelia and Maria weren't very rich, since Maria's father had left them with huge debts, but they made enough money for a living and for a few luxuries.   
  
Liza was still lost in her musing when she entered Tess's bedroom and carefully placed the dresses on Tess's bed. Bertha nodded at her, waving with her hand, signalling to her that she was dismissed. Liza flashed a grateful smile at Bertha, determined to show her gratitude, and turned around. She was just across the bedroom, intending to leave it, when – all of a sudden – Bertha's cold voice stopped her.   
  
"Oh, by the way, Liza, I forgot to tell you something," she said, acting as though it just came to her mind at that very moment.   
  
Liza turned around, only to be faced with a giggling Tess and a very serious Bertha.   
  
"There is _one_ condition on going along with us," Bertha told her.   
  
Liza slowly nodded, confused, but prepared to do whatever needed to see the Prince. She shot shy and worried glances at Tess, who was still giggling on her way down.   
  
Bertha walked into the kitchen, nearing the hearth and thus nearing the straw that was Liza and Alex's bed. She took a large bowl, filled to the brim with beans and looked challengingly at Liza.   
  
Liza refused to shut her eyes; ready to take whatever challenge Bertha was daring her to do.   
  
Bertha turned the bowl upside-down, throwing the beans on the ground and between the straws. She mingled them with the cinders and ash in the fireplace and shoved a few of them under the – neatly made – blankets of the "bed".   
  
"When you've selected all the beans out of the fireplace and when they're back in the bowl in less than two hours, you can go with us," Bertha said, that deceptive smile back on her face once more.   
  
She winked at Tess, who was openly laughing at the moment, and Liza didn't move until they had left the room.   
  
Liza sighed. She needed to do this in less than _two_ hours?   
  
She'd never manage to do that... There was no way she'd be able to attend the ball now...   
  
She leaned back at the wall, sliding down against it, putting her head between her hands. She could just smash herself at that moment. She should have known that Bertha wasn't just trying to be nice to her. She should have known that.   
  
Why did she always trust the wrong people?   
  
A little sparrow landed on the windowsill and chirped softly when it noticed Liza's sadness and despair, silently asking her what was wrong.   
  
Liza laughed, startling the little bird with the bitterness in her voice.   
  
She managed to 'tell' the sparrow what she had to do and let her defeat and despair seep through their connection.   
  
The small bird moved its head, making it look like a nod of understanding.   
  
Instead of comforting her, or cheering her up, it turned around and flew away.   
  
How Liza wished she were a bird, how she wished that she could be the one to fly away and leave this place. She longed for freedom, to make her own decisions, and see more of the world.   
  
To see the Prince...   
  
She sighed again and moved over to the straws next to the fireplace. Gone was her chance to meet the Prince again. Gone was her hope to see his eyes just _one_ more time. She'd die as an old and lonely spinster or maid. 'No,' she corrected herself. 'I won't even have the chance to become old. With this work, I'd die in my early fifties or sixties, or perhaps even before then.'   
  
Suddenly there was the sound of wings in the air, and she looked up, surprised to find that the little sparrow had returned with all sorts of birds. There were a few pigeons, some other sparrows, blackbirds and _all_ other kinds of birds she had never seen before.   
  
They nodded at Liza and started to peck at the beans, picking them up and placing them in the bowl. They left the filth and cinders on the ground and selected the beans out of the straws and ashes.   
  
In less than half an hour they had returned almost every bean in the bowl, and when the last bean joined the others, the birds looked up at Liza, and nodded again.   
  
Liza happily smiled and thanked the birds for their help, the tears of sadness in her eyes replaced with tears of gratefulness, affection and hope.   
  
She ran upstairs with the bowl in her hand and entered Tess's bedroom with an enormous smile plastered on her face. She proudly presented the bowl filled with beans to Bertha, convinced that now, she'd let her go.   
  
Bertha looked at her and smiled wryly while she gave Liza a look-over, the expression of pure astonishment quickly turning in one of coolness.   
  
"Did you really think we'd let you go with us?" she asked her, mock disbelief clearly evident in her voice.   
  
"You're dirty, you don't have a dress and you cannot dance. You'd embarrass us."   
  
It wasn't until then that Liza's smile faltered. Alex, who had overheard the whole conversation, suddenly spoke.   
  
"Liza _can_ dance," he piped up, defending his little sister. "Our mother taught us when we were little."   
  
"Liza _is_ still little," Tess said, taking every opportunity to hurt Liza.   
  
"She isn't _little_," Alex replied, "She's petite. Just like you," he retorted.   
  
Tess kept silent, indignant, knowing she wasn't a match for Alex's words or mind.   
  
"The filth can be washed off, and she could borrow one of Tess's dresses," he continued.   
  
His last words provoked quite a few squirts of outrage from Tess.   
  
"_She_?" Tess spat out. "Borrow _my_ dress?"   
  
She vigorously shook her head. "Oh no, she won't! Over my dead body."   
  
Alex took Liza's hand and softly squeezed it.   
  
"She could borrow a dress from Maria," he proposed, positive that their friend would be happy to help Liza out.   
  
"Mind you own business, Alexander," Bertha said. "She isn't coming with us. Period. Discussion closed."   
  
"Discussion? Which discussion?" Alex defiantly asked her. "You don't even give her a _fair_ chance!"   
  
"Shut up, Alex..." Bertha threateningly started. "Go and feed the horses and prepare the coach. Now!" she yelled when Alex didn't show any intention of obliging.   
  
"And you, Liza," she continued when Alex had left the room. "Do Tess's hair and her make-up. Make sure she's all set to go by eight."   
  
Liza bit on her lip and tucked a strand of hair back in her ponytail, trembling from the strength it took her to control herself. Tess looked at her, an evil glint in her eyes when she started talking.   
  
"Can you believe it, sister dear?" she asked, faking disbelief. "_I_ am going to meet the Prince tonight. _The_ Prince," she continued, a grin stretching itself from ear to ear. "_Tonight_," she stretched.   
  
Liza just looked at Tess, succeeding in keeping an emotionless front.   
  
When Tess didn't receive the reaction she'd expected to get, she repeated her words, talking slowly, word after word, as if talking to a little child, or a foreigner.   
  
"I, " she started, while pointing at herself, "am – going – to – meet..." she inserted a long, dramatic pause, "the – Prince," she finished. "_The_ P-R-I-N-C-E," she spelled, obviously disappointed with Liza's reaction, or rather: lack of reaction.   
  
Tess sat down on the stool, which loudly protested under her weight. Ignoring the cracking, she bended forward, lifting the brush of the closet and handing it to Liza.   
  
"Brush," Tess commanded her.   
  
Liza started to drag the brush through Tess's hair and pulled hard at it when it got tangled – harder than necessary.   
  
  
--------------------   
  


Please, review???


	4. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:  **

Yay! 

For the first time in my writing career (about two months…**;) **), it's really necessary to write a Disclaimer… 

I mean, everybody knows that the characters belong to JK, Melinda Metz, and others, but you guys don't know to whom the lyrics of the song that's used belong… 

Or maybe you do…** :)**

Anyway, the song used is called **"Children's Lullaby"** by **"Vertical Horizon"**. The song is nice, but it were the lyrics that touched me… 

Oh, and since we're doing the disclaimer anyways, I'll just tell you, that, in case you recognize some of the sentences used in the part where Max talks to Christian, that you probably knew them from a fluff fic I wrote about a year ago, for English class. I didn't post it at Roswellfanatics, but I did post it at ff.net, so maybe you read it there, although I seriously doubt that. Besides that, I enhanced the part a little, so it's not that obvious… **:)**

And guys, thank you soooo incredibly much for your great reviews and sweet words! They encouraged me to write faster, type faster, and kinda inspired me. So, please, please, pretty please, keep them coming!

Enough of me babbling. Without further ado, here's the new part:

-----------------------------------------****

**A Rose Of Cinders**

_Chapter 3_

**Children's Lullaby**   
Little girl was down by the waterside,   
The sun so hot and the roses so red where she lie,   
As little boys sit and watch as she twirls all around,   
Sunny smiles not a rain cloud could bring that girl down,   
  
But now....   
  
What's behind those big brown eyes,   
Do you dream at night, without your lullaby?   
  
Little boy sits alone as he sings in the dark,   
Wondering if his own dreams had pulled them apart,   
He sings a song of tomorrow he never can see,   
Mostly sings of a lost little girl's memory,   
  
And now...   
  
As his dreams go flashing by,   
He begins to hear a lonely lullaby   
  
Well now…   
  
We used to sing,   
And we used to cry,   
Through everything,   
In our children's lullaby   
  
Little girl on the street with nobody around   
Has her head in the air, dirty feet on the ground   
She shuts her eyes and she wonders 'is this a mistake?'   
Now she's gone from the warmth of her little boy days.   
  
And still...   
  
She believes that she'll get by,   
On her own without,   
Her little boy's lullaby   
  
Little boy prays to God to answer his song,   
To hold her hand when everyone else's are gone,   
Time goes by and the wounds slowly turn into scars,   
So he makes his final wish on the midnight stars,   
  
And he screams...   
  
Little girl won't you hear my cry,   
Won't you come back home,   
To your lover's lullaby   
  
Little girl down by the waterside   
  
Goodbye, goodbye   
  
Goodbye…   
  
                                                -----------------------------   
  
The lyrics of the song slowly drifted towards Max, kept lingering in the air, drenching him with their hidden meaning. He didn't know where the song was being sung, or by whom, but the words were so true to him that they could be derived from his soul.   
  
The sun was slowly setting, its celestial journey across the cloudless sky almost completed. The shadows it was casting were getting longer and wider, and even though the sun was nearly down, the temperature didn't decrease.   
  
It promised to become a long, _very_ long, sultry summer night.   
  
Max looked down from his balcony at the people swarming around his second-in-command, Michael, who was currently trying to stall Max's arrival in the Grand Hall.   
  
He took a closer look.   
  
Girls.   
  
A lot of girls.   
  
_Thousands_ of them.   
  
Well, hundreds maybe, he rationalized. Anyhow, there were plenty of them. Enough to turn every man's dream – a ball with beautiful girls that were begging him to marry them – into a nightmare.   
  
He'd have to try and dance with every single one of them, as promised in the Royal Letter.   
  
And why?   
  
He wouldn't find the right one.   
  
Over the years he'd been introduced to decades of young girls, most of them being princesses, and – he had to admit – excruciatingly beautiful. Somehow, he couldn't imagine marrying any of those girls. He knew why, though.   
  
The girl at the carnival. Brown hair, big doe eyes. Eyes that were able to swallow him, that allowed him to get lost in her essence. She had been young at the time, and so had he. He doubted that she would remember him – at least, not in the way he remembered her – and if she did, it'd probably only be because of his Royal status as a Prince.   
  
Not because of _him_.   
  
He had no clue as to how she looked nowadays, but he knew that he would recognize her immediately. He had dreamed of her, countless times. In some of them, they were happily married, and were playing with their children.   
  
Other dreams were more… err… arousing, and to say that they were _inspiring_ would be an understatement…   
  
Max cursed under his breath for the blush he knew was adorning his face, being arisen just at the mere _memory_ of those dreams. He tried very hard to regain his composure by thinking of anything but _Her_.   
  
It worked for twenty seconds, but somehow his thoughts always managed to drift back to her.   
  
Maybe she'd be among those girls, although Max knew that he would have _felt_ her in some sort of way, like he would have recognized her presence. It was ridiculous, he was aware of that, for he couldn't be able to distinguish any of the girls from this far away, but, at the same time, he couldn't deny his heart's knowledge.   
  
"Your Majesty?"   
  
He swivelled around at the sound of Christian's voice and walked into his room, where Christian was waiting for him. He breezily acknowledged the servant's presence with a friendly nod.   
  
Christian cleared his throat.   
  
"We received an answer from Lady Ann and Lord James, sir. They were very honored by your invitation and will surely attend tonight's ball."   
  
"Good, good," Max replied, "very good indeed. How about the preparations?" he asked, walking over to his closet to retrieve his blouse.   
  
"Her Highness Isabel decided to do the planning herself, Your Majesty."   
  
Max smiled inwardly. If Izzy would take care of the ball, it was bound to become a splendid party.   
  
"Good," he answered. "Well, that's all, Christian. You're dismissed, I'd like to change now." Max gestured at his blouse.   
  
Christian nodded quickly. "Yes, sir."   
  
"Oh, and Christian?" Max said, looking at the retreating servant.   
  
Christain revolved around his axis, almost tripling over his own feet, but was just in time to prevent a huge embarrassment. "Yes, sir?" he asked when he had recovered from the almost-fall.   
  
"Loose the whole your-majesty-stuff, would you?" Max semi-ordered him, a friendly undertone present in his voice. He had known Christian for over 3 years now, and Christian still wasn't able to call him by his first name.   
  
When Christian answered with a solemn "Yes, sir," Max let out an exasperated sigh.   
  
"The sir-crap, too, Christian," he said. "You can call me Max."   
  
"Okay, sir," Christian responded, but quickly corrected himself when he saw Max arching his eyebrow.   
  
"I mean Max, sir," he said, curtsied and quickly walked away.   
  
Max smiled weakly, and walked over to his window, bracing himself on the windowsill. He could see the farmers working on the countryside and had a bird's eye view of the world.   
  
It was all going to be his.   
  
His kingdom.   
  
He thought of the question he'd been asking himself the whole month. Did he really want to do this, get married to one of those girls, being bound for the rest of his life? He'd been taught from childhood that the kingdom demanded sacrifices and that it was a gift to be asked to give an offering.   
  
He sacrificed a lot.   
  
He gave up nearly everything, but could he give up love? Because that was what he would do, by getting married. He did not like any of those girls, and he didn't know how he ever could. The Council wanted him to marry, though, and he couldn't go against the will of the Council. He was supposed to do his proposal this week, at the ball or in the after hours of it, so that the survival of the Unity would be guaranteed. Maybe they were women who he had to learn to love.   
  
Or perhaps, he thought, perhaps he was doomed to live a life without love…   
  
He shook his head, trying to get rid of those depressing thoughts.   
  
'Think happy thoughts,' he told himself.   
  
And, as usual, his mind raked up the image of his dream girl, at least, the way she looked in his dreams. He was yearning for a name, for a way to call her his.   
  
Pretty soon he was lost in his daily fantasies and reveries about her, and he was startled when Michael called him, pulling him back to the harsh reality.   
  
"… waiting for you, Maxwell," were the only words he managed to constitute out of Michael's sentence.   
  
His eyes fluttered open and he looked right into the eyes of his best friend and second-in-command.   
  
"I'll be right down," Max said with a curt nod, and he was about to get lost in his dream world again when Michael resisted.   
  
"Maxwell!" he cried out, only partially faking despair.   
  
"You can't be serious! Those girls are literally pulling the clothes off of my body, clinging onto me, begging me, beseeching me to get at least _one_ dance with the Prince! You _can't_ stall any longer!" he stressed. 

  
"Michael…" Max warned, his voice filled with an authority, determined and persuasive, a way of speaking that he didn't use very often. "I said that I would be _right_ down," he firmly stated.   
  
Michael reluctantly nodded. "Of course, _sire_," he mockingly said, a bitter undertone audible in his voice.   
  
Max averted his gaze and looked at Michael, and when he saw the hurt in his friend's eyes, he felt guilty.   
  
"I'm sorry," he hastily apologized, "it's just that… I don't _want_ to do this…"   
  
Michael raised an eyebrow.   
  
"Maxwell, please… Those girls want you… They _love_ you!" he loudly tried to reason, not even bothering to keep his voice down in front of a member of the Royal House.   
  
"They don't even _know_ me, Michael," Max flatly replied. "All they care for is the prospect of a life at the palace, a life as a Queen, a life of wealth. They only _want_ me," he said while forming quotation marks with his hands, "because of _what_ I am, not because of _who_ I am…" he trailed off and turned to look out of his window again.   
  
The sun had finished its long hike, only to start it all over again tomorrow.   
  
It was, astronomically seen, totally incorrect, Max knew that, but it was an excellent metaphor for how he felt at the moment. He lived _one_ day, ended it, and the next morning, he had to start all over again.   
  
His life held no meaning for him.   
  
His dreams did.   
  
His dreams were beautiful, marvelous, filled with _Her_. They made him _feel_, they made him _alive_. 

_She_ made him feel… As well in the spiritual sense of the word as in the more _physical_ meaning of it…   
  
He felt his ears starting to glow again, a blush covering his cheeks. He thanked his lucky stars for the fact that twilight had settled down on them.   
  
When he turned to look at Michael again, he found him staring at his face, his expression – as usual – unreadable. Michael smiled weakly at him and nodded a silent, unknown agreement. "I'll tell them you're on your way," he softly said, care and pity both present in his voice.   
  
"Thank you, Michael," Max timidly uttered his gratefulness towards his friend.   
  
Michael disappeared, leaving Max alone with his thoughts. He swiftly walked over to his balcony and threw one last glance at the sky. Closing his eyes, he mentally prepared himself for what was to come.   
  
The inquisitive chirping of a bird shook him out of his trance.   
  
It was a little sparrow that could fairly easily fit into Max's hand. Its brown, shiny feathers glistened in the pale light of the moon, and when it moved its tiny intelligent head, one could see a little red spot just below its gray throat. Max took a closer look, and for a moment, he could have sworn that he saw _Her_ in the pitch-black eyes of the little bird. The sparrow nodded at him, yes, Max was sure, _nodded_ at him, and a second later it spread its wings and flew away, disappearing into a dark night.   
  
Max watched until the bird was out of his range of vision and then leaned back, tracing the adornments on the railing of the balcony. He turned his eyes up, ready to face the lonesome moon, its usual companions, the stars and planets, lost in the inky sway of the night.   
  
He inhaled the warm air deeply, but wasn't able to find any calmness in it, the humidity making the air thicker and clammy. After one last look at the moon and a quick prayer to its Goddess, he left the balcony and bristled through his room, not ready at all to face his nightmare, but aware that he couldn't remain in his room any longer, merely for Michael's sake as for his own.   
  
                                             ------------------------------

What did you think? Please review! **:)**

I've already written part 4 (Josephin already beta-read it, she's the bestest beta-reader in the whole wide world!!! **:)**) and if I get enough reviews, I might post it tomorrow or on Wednesday… *hint, hint* **;)**

Lots of love,

Katie


	5. Chapter 4

No reviews? None at all? Nothing?

Ouch… :(

That hurts…

Was the last part that bad? If you're reading & enjoying this (or not) please, please, please, pretty please, review, okay?

I'm down on my knees _begging_ you!

No reviews, no new part! Then I'll just quit continuing it here…****

****

**_A Rose Of Cinders_**__

_Chapter 4:_

Alex sat in the kitchen, toying with a wooden walking-stick. He had made it for his dad a couple of years ago, intending to give it to him at his birthday, but he never had had the chance to do so. His fingers delicately traced the lines of the head of the man that was curved into the wood. He missed his dad. Not the man that was supposed to be his dad at the moment, but the man that _used_ to be his dad. The man with whom he had played soccer, whom had taught him all about girls and horses. He missed _that_ man.   
  
The clock stroke eight, and a little cuckoo appeared, proudly chirping the time.   
  
Alex sighed. He was bored out of his mind. Every minute he would look up to check on his sister, to see if she was okay. Her state or position never changed. She'd lay there, softly sobbing, silently hoping that he wouldn't notice it. Her knees were pulled up to her chin, her thin arms surrounding her legs, in a fetus-like position.   
  
He wouldn't say a thing, or make any noise. He could understand why she felt like this. He couldn't _comprehend_ it – he had never missed out on a chance to see the love of his life – but the least he could do was to try and understand Liza.   
  
Another one of Liza's sobs broke through the silence, it resounding in the room, and Alex's heart ached at the sight of his little sister being this heart-torn.   
  
He, Maria and Liza never held things from one another, but Liza had never told Alex, nor Maria about her crush on the Prince, which was why they knew Liza had it bad. It wasn't some sort of puppy-love; it was a very serious crush on the Prince, and not just because he was the _Prince_.   
  
The atmosphere in the room was heart-wrenching, it was almost as if their mother had died again. Maybe something _had_ died today. Maybe the most important part of Liza, her hope, had died. It had been Liza's hope that had gotten them this far. Liza's hope had made him hope, had made him believe in a better future, for both of them.   
  
That hope, the hope for a better life, had died tonight. She'd hoped for a meeting with the Prince. He knew that – maybe unconsciously – she had hoped that when she'd meet the Prince, he'd fall in love with her, too, and marry her. She could see the Prince later on in her life, but it wouldn't be the same. He would be married, and any possibility for a marriage between them would be ruled out.   
  
He sighed again, looking at the petite form of his sister, wishing that he could comfort her, help her, but he knew that it wasn't possible. Bertha and Tess had locked them up in their own kitchen. He had huffed at them, telling them that they couldn't do this, but they hadn't paid any attention to his protest.   
  
It surprised him that they'd even bothered to leave the little window above the door open, in order to make sure they would get some fresh air. 

He heard a mouse softly squeak somewhere close to the fireplace. When it made its way to Liza, Alex couldn't suppress a little smile. Maybe the little fellow could cheer Liza up, comfort her like Alex couldn't. 

There had been times that Alex had been jealous on the bond Liza had with animals. He had envied how she could handle horses, and he had envied the friendship she had had with the mice and birds around the house. Now, when Liza needed a friend more than ever, he was glad that another person, or rather: another animal, could be there for her.   
  
The mouse crept under the blankets and gently nudged her, pushing its little snout against her face. Alex saw Liza opening her eyes and smile weakly at the sight of her little friend. She turned her eyes up and looked at Alex. He sent her a sympathetic smile, ready to comfort her in whatever way needed.   
  
The melodious chirping of a little bird caught their attention. A brown sparrow had flown through the little window, and was carefully trying to land on the kitchen table. The bird looked at Alex, an inquiring look on its face. Alex suppressed the sudden urge to make a face at it, and was relieved when it turned its gaze at Liza. When it flew up again, a little red spot on its throat became visible.   
  
Liza let the sparrow land on her finger, and softly stroked its feathers, making them gleam even more. All of a sudden, she stood up, walked over to the sink, filled a little tray with water and held it out to the bird. The sparrow drank the water greedily, and the tray was empty in a matter of seconds.   
  
Alex closely watched as his sister interacted with the bird. She looked deeply immersed in thoughts, and he knew that she'd connected with it. The bird peeped softly, as if talking to Liza, and Alex saw her face lighten up, brighten with hope. Maybe her hope hadn't died after all, and had it only been dormant for a while, waiting to be ignited again.   
  
The sparrow left the kitchen and Alex was just about to ask Liza what happened when it returned, a large key dangling between its beak. It flew tremendously low, the key obviously way too heavy for it. Liza quickly reached out to catch the bird, and it landed safely in her hands, handing her the key while doing so.   
  
Liza took the key between her fingers and held it out to Alex, smiling triumphantly.   
  
"Let's go to Maria's," she said, happiness radiating off of her. "We still have two hours to get ready," she added, a mischievous smile plastered on her face.   
  
"Why, Liza," Alex replied, faked shock etched on his face. 

"You are not… You are not intending to disobey an order of Bertha, now are you?"   
  
Liza giggled softly, and Alex thanked all the gods that he knew of for it.   
  
"Take it, or leave it, bro," she teased him, and took a dirty, stained shawl off the coat-hook, wrapping it around her head and neck.   
  
Alex watched at his sister opening the door and at the little bird leaving the safe harbor of her hands.   
  
Liza turned around and looked back at him, a smile still gracing her features. 

"You coming?" she asked him, "or should I lock you up again?"   
  
Alex vigorously shook his head. "I'm on my way!" he yelled, and quickly grabbed his hat off of the table.   
  
The door was almost closed when he reached it. He quickly put his foot between the wall and the door, it nearly being crushed in a most dangerous way. He heard Liza giggling and he pushed the door, hard, until it opened. Letting out an ominous growl, he slammed the door close behind his back.   
  
Liza was nowhere to be found.   
  
He growled again. He had a sister to chase…   
  
---------------------

Please review? It really does mean a lot to me…


	6. Chapter 5

Hi All!

Thank you sooo much for your reactions! I didn't mean to sound too harsh or actually _demand_ reviews (which I think I did – kind of)… It's just that I love to get reviews, and no one reviewed the new part of True Colors _and _there wasn't anyone who bothered to review for this fic, so I thought that my writing sucked… :(

So, I'm really glad that all of you guys reviewed… 

Thnx!

Well, onto the story…

**A Rose Of Cinders**

_Chapter 5_

Liza slowed down, diminishing her speed when the DeLuca residence came into view. Crossing the main garden, she leapt over the small brook that surrounded the little front yard, and jumped the stairs that led to a little porch. Impatiently, she knocked the front door, hard, but she didn't pay any attention to the hurt it inflicted to her knuckles, being too occupied with seeking refugee. 

Somewhere behind her, over the sound of her own irregular breathing and gasps for air, she could hear Alex's yells, and every now and then – when he knocked his big toe at a rock or stepped into the dirt – she heard him cry out obscenities and rather indecent words. 

She knocked again, louder this time, quietly begging for Maria, Amelia, _anyone_ to open the door. She shuddered involuntary at the thought what would happen when they wouldn't be in time to let her in… 

Alex would grasp her, and tickle her to death… 

'C'mon Maria,' she thought persistently, and she threw a glance over her right shoulder, seeing Alex closing in on her. 

'Hurry up…' she silently added, as she watched Alex jump over the brook. 

Alex ran hard, not even bothering to diminish his speed as he came closer and closer, and he neared her with every second that passed. He looked very funny, running that fast, Liza suddenly thought. His arms were flinging back and forth, and his mouth was half-opened in order to get as much gallons of air as possible. 

Her attention once again shifted to the door, and she impatiently knocked again. A muffled "Yeah, yeah," could be heard, and when she heard someone – probably Maria – fumbling with the lock, she allowed the breath she'd been holding for the last few seconds to escape her throat. 

She prepared herself for another run, and as soon as the door opened even the slightest bit, she threw herself against it, enlarging the opening far enough to leap through it. She flew into the hall, and gently pushed a very astonished Maria out of her way. 

Alex followed suit, and after almost running into Maria, he called a loud "Sorry!" over his shoulder, and continued his chase. 

Liza barged into the kitchen and hid behind Amelia, who had a flabbergasted expression plastered on her face. 

"Help me," Liza begged her, "please, Amelia, please, you gotta help me…" 

Amelia worriedly watched her – a tad confused – and she stroked Liza's hair, her fingers hooking themselves under the dirty shawl that was wrapped around her head, and carefully untying it. 

"Are you alright?" she asked Liza, concerned, and her fingers gingerly caressed her cheeks. 

Liza opened her mouth, and was about to reassure Amelia when Alex ran into the kitchen, panting like a madman. She shrieked and ducked behind the kitchen table, partially covering herself with the checked tablecloth. 

Alex, who pretended that he had neither seen nor heard her, came to an abrupt halt, and tried to catch his breath. 

"Where is she?" he quasi ominously asked Amelia, and, urgently, he added: "Where did she go?" 

Even though he sounded serious, it was obvious to Amelia that he didn't mean to sound so harsh, and that he was just teasing Liz. To make sure that Amelia wouldn't take him wrong, Alex winked at her, and an amused, contagious smile was spreading itself on his face. 

Amelia decided to play along with him, and when Maria appeared, she laid her finger on her lips, indicating Maria to be quiet. Maria raised her eyebrow, but obeyed her mother without uttering her questions, and watched with growing interest. 

"I don't know," she answered Alex, but while she gave him her answer, she pointed at the kitchen table and mouthed 'there' to him. 

A stifled giggle reached their ears, its previous destination being the kitchen table, or rather: the space under the kitchen table, and Alex smiled warmly at Amelia, showing her his gratitude. He quickly tiptoed to the table, his arms stretched out, ready to grab Liza. 

Turning around the corner of the table, he suddenly growled, pretty much resembling a predator and leaped forward in a canine-like-way. 

Amelia watched the scene unfold itself, the amused smile still playing on her lips. Her facial expressions changed quickly, though, when Alex shrieked and stumbled backwards, his face wan, and about ten shades paler than it had been before. 

She hurried herself towards the table, fearing that something might have happened to Liza, but found her sitting happily on the floor, a large spider crossing the palm of her hand. 

Alex's neck hairs were standing upwards, and a fear that he couldn't veil was visible in his eyes. He extended his index finger and pointed at the spider. 

"P-p-p…put… that – that away…" he stuttered and Liza smiled gently at him. 

"What do you mean, Alex?" she sweetly asked him, the teasing tone that had abandoned Alex's voice now audible in hers. 

Alex pointed at the spider again, and tried to creep further into the wall. 

"Th-th-that," he elucidated, stumbling over the four-letter word. 

Liza extended her hand with the spider on it, bringing it closer to Alex. 

"You mean this?" 

She stooped forward, intending to let the spider walk away. 

"As you wish, dear brother," she quasi submissively told him. 

"N-no!" Alex screamed, trying to make himself as small as possible. "No! No! Outside, outside!" he urged her on. He closed his eyes, murmuring reassuring words to himself, and Liza stood up, deciding that Alex had had enough punishment and walked to the kitchen door. 

She smiled and thanked the spider, allowing it to escape into the night, its destination unknown. 

Alex let out a relieved sigh when Liza returned without the spider, and shakily stood up. Amelia and Maria had watched the interaction between brother and sister with amusement, and it wasn't until then that Liza and Alex noticed Maria's dress. 

Liza gasped, while Alex whistled approvingly. 

Maria smiled proudly at their reactions, and when Alex motioned for her to turn, she twirled around her axis, showing the marvelous dress off. 

It was the most beautiful dress Liza had ever seen. It was made of velvet, and the sky-blue color of it brought out the bright blue color of Maria's eyes. A few pearls were embroidered on the front of the dress, surrounding a little blue, stitched lily, and the sleeves widened at the ends. The fringes of the dress were made from a darker shade of blue, and Maria looked – in one word – stunning. 

"Isn't it pretty?" Maria asked them, and Liza smiled at her, nodding her agreement. 

"Yeah," she breathed. "It's amazing…" 

A sudden pang of jealousy hit her, and she tried to ignore it. She really was happy for her best friend, but how she wished that _she_ could have such a dress… It was bound to attract the attention of the Prince… She tried to get rid of her envious thoughts and, after making sure that none of her jealousy would shimmer through, she spoke up. 

"Where did you buy it? It looks so expensive…" 

Maria's proud expression didn't change, and she beamed up at her mother. 

"Mom made it for me, you know, with her powers," she explained. 

Alex whistled again, and clapped his hands. "Great work," he complimented Amelia. "It looks really real to me." 

Amelia gratefully smiled at him. "Thank you, Alex," she softly thanked him. "It isn't that hard to make it look real, it's just the carrying on of it that tires me." 

She nodded her head in the direction of the shed that adjoined their house. "I've also changed the coach into a more royal version," she continued, "would you go and check the horses?" 

Alex nodded enthusiastically; he loved Ebony and Amber, Amelia's horses. A surprise awaited him: there weren't _two_ horses in the stables, but _six_. When he came closer, he realized that the four new horses belonged to Mr. Stephens, the very old and kind neighbor of the DeLuca's. 

He gently stroked the nose of Snow, the white mare, and softly patted Crystal's nose. Raven, the black stallion, snorted impatiently, and Ginger followed its lead. Alex calmed them down by whispering soothing words and started to prepare them for the journey to the palace. 

------------------------------------------------------------------- 

Meanwhile, Amelia and Maria were occupied with designing the perfect dress for Liza. 

--------------------------------------------------------------------

Amelia circled around her, inspecting the old dress she was wearing. "Color?" she asked. 

Liza looked helplessly at Maria, not really knowing what to do or what to say. 

"Red," Maria decided for Liza, "wine red." 

Amelia waved over Liza's dress, and the stains and tears disappeared, vanishing under her hand. Miraculously, the filthy white color of the sundress turned into a much deeper, richer shade of red. 

Liza's gasp was answered by a warm smile from Amelia, who just continued her work. 

Maria propped her hand under her chin, and looked inscrutably at Liza. 

"I'd go for a long dress, mom," she declared, "long would be more elegant." 

Amelia nodded, agreeing with her daughter, and the material of the dress stretched itself. To Liza, with her scientific mind, it almost looked as if the dress was growing, like a cell that grew by osmosis. 

Amelia took a step back and looked at the result. 

"Hmm… That looks more like it…" she murmured to herself. She walked around Liza again and got rid of the spots and patches she'd forgotten. 

She proudly inspected her work before she started contemplating – out loud – about the material of the dress. 

"Silk, maybe?" Maria suggested, and Amelia looked questioningly at Liza, who eagerly nodded at Maria's proposal. 

"Yes, please," she happily agreed, already imagining the feeling of the soft fabric against her skin. Amelia waved once more over the dress, and added some lace fringes to the dress, following Maria's advices. 

When Amelia twirled Liza around, she noticed how deep-cut the back of the dress was, and hesitated, lifting her hand, intending to get the bare patch of skin covered up, but she was stopped in mid-air by Maria's loud protests. 

She gave Maria a reprimanding look, but didn't change the gown. "Anything else?" she gently asked Liza, who just shook her head, being more than content with her new dress. 

"Jewelry!" Maria happily squealed, and Liza noticed the little silver cross that hung on a small collier around Maria's neck, the plentitude of bracelets that dangled around her wrists and the large ring around her index finger. 

Amelia smiled at the enthusiastic reaction of her daughter, but didn't make Liza any jewelry before she had changed the socks Liza was wearing into a pair of small, glass mules. 

A few seconds later, Liza was attired with a silver necklace that carried a little rose and a few bracelets that surrounded her slender wrists. 

"There," Amelia said when she had finished, and she looked approvingly at the result of her handiwork. 

She moved her hands upwards, letting them hover above Liza's hair for a minute, pondering about the most fitting hair-style for a ball, and quickly swooped Liza's dark tresses up, firmly piling them upon her head. She placed a few glistening hairpins with little diamonds in the brown cascade of hair and allowed a few strands to fall down, while Maria had grabbed a mirror from the closet. 

Liza looked at her reflection in the mirror. Was it really hers? She looked so different. Older, somehow, maybe even beautiful. "Are my two favorite girls ready to perform?" Amelia asked Liza and Maria. Liza smiled gratefully at her, and looked one last time in the mirror before turning to her best friend's mother. She loved Amelia; the thought had leaped into her head, and it kept echoing and resounding in her mind. Amelia was a sort of surrogate mother to her, and for a moment, she felt guilty. 

Guilty for thinking about someone else than her mom like this. It quickly passed, though, as she realized that her mother had wanted this, that she'd always liked Amelia and Maria, and that she just wanted Liza to be happy. 

She diminished the distance between her and Amelia and fiercely hugged her, tears stinging her eyes, a wistful smile adorning her features. "Thank you, Amy," she softly whispered, "thank you so much." 

Amelia smiled understanding, loving, and hugged her back. "You're welcome, dear," she replied, "you always are…" 

Liza nodded against Amelia's chest and her smile broadened, but a moment later, it faltered, as she realized what was to come. 

The ball. 

She'd been looking forward to it, and had anticipated it, but now that it really was about to happen, a flicker of fear had been ignited, and she wasn't so sure anymore. What if the Prince didn't like her? What if he thought she was an annoyance, or, even worse, a snob? What was she expected to say, what would they want her to talk about? 

The latest fashions, maybe? 

She wasn't aware of those… 

The war against Ceria? 

She only knew what she'd heard of Maria… 

Amelia seemed to sense Liza's worries and gently cupped her cheek. "You'll do fine, Liza, believe me," she assured her. Liza nodded hesitantly, smiled shyly and thanked Amelia again. 

Amelia pinched her cheek softly and Liza nervously giggled. "You'd better get Alex, sweetie," Amelia told her. "He also needs a make-over if he's to go along." 

She turned to Maria. "Maria, could you get me some water?" Amelia tiredly asked her daughter. 

'Two done, one to go', she thought. Mindwarping so much molecules into a different structure was draining as hell, and she wasn't sure how long she'd be able to keep it up. Until midnight, perhaps, when everything went well. 

Liza gave Amelia and Maria one last smile and went to the shed. It was dark, and she could hear the horses's nervous neighing. She shivered. Not because it was cold; it was a sultry night, and the atmosphere in the shed was suffocating. 

It was the lack of light, the darkness. The darkness held secrets, memories, plots that couldn't be foreseen. The darkness held fear. The light of a candle flickered against the walls of the shed, and she heard a person rummaging, the sound of it ominous in the darkness. 

She softly wandered further into the shed, nearing the horses, the shuffling of their hoofs getting louder and louder. 

She never saw it happen. 

The hand was firmly clasped to her mouth, preventing the A of Alex, that had already formed itself on her lips, to escape her throat, and another arm pressed her into a muscular body. 

She closed her eyes in distress as her aggressor swiveled her around, not only because she didn't want to see his face, but also with the thought that if she just wished hard enough, her attacker would be gone and it would appear to be only a dark, twisted game the darkness was playing with her, a trick it was playing on her. 

-------------------------------------------------------------------- 

Max slowly closed his eyes and softly sighed as the girl nestled her head on his shoulder, her blonde, curly hair gently touching the crook of his neck. His arms lay on her shoulders, and her arms were possessively wrapped around his waist. He was aware of the envious looks the girl was receiving from the rest of the female population in the room, but he decided that he didn't care what they thought. He sighed again and they danced on and on, the dance seemingly taking an eternity. 

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That was part 5! Hope you enjoyed... :)

Pretty please review? 

Please? 

I'm asking very nicely now… :) 

I might even consider to post sooner... 

Hugs and kisses,

Katie

* * *


	7. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**   
  
She softly wandered further into the shed, nearing the horses, the shuffling of their hoofs getting louder and louder.   
  
She never saw it happen.   
  
The hand was firmly clasped to her mouth, preventing the A of Alex, that had already formed itself on her lips, to escape her throat, and another arm pressed her into a muscular body.   
  
She closed her eyes in distress as her aggressor swiveled her around, not only because she didn't want to see his face, but also with the thought that if she just wished hard enough, her attacker would be gone and it would appear to be only a dark, twisted game the darkness was playing with her, a trick it was playing _on_ her.   
  
Warm puffs of her assessor's breath were perceptible on her face, stroking her, caressing her cheeks. She squeezed her eyes tight shut, even tighter than before. His face was close, very close now, and she was sure that when she'd lean back, it would touch hers.   
  
"BOO!" a rather familiar voice exclaimed loudly in her ear. Her eyes flew open, and she blindly started hitting her brother, very much annoyed by his stupidity and the fright he had given her. "You jerk!!! Argh… you… you… moron!" she yelled at Alex, and hit him again and again. He didn't seem to care, though, or pretended that he didn't feel it. He was laughing out loud, and his neighing and Liza's loud, high-pitched screams allured Amelia and Maria to the barn, finding there a _very_ pissed off Liza and an Alex who still was nowhere near regretting his revenge… 

-------------------------------------

  
Max slowly closed his eyes and softly sighed as the girl nestled her head on his shoulder, her blonde, curly hair gently touching the crook of his neck. His arms lay on her shoulders, and her arms were possessively wrapped around his waist. He was aware of the envious looks the girl was receiving from the rest of the female population in the room, but he decided that he didn't care what they thought. He sighed again and they danced on and on, the dance seemingly taking an eternity.   
  
His sigh wasn't one of bliss, though, and he didn't close his eyes because he wanted to relish in the feelings this girl was evoking in him. His sigh was one of annoyance, and his eyes only fluttered close in sheer irritation and boredom.   
  
He liked to imagine that _She_ was dancing with him, that he was holding _Her_ hand, that it was _Her_ beautiful, pretty head that rested upon his shoulder. The itchy touch of the girl's curls reminded him over and over again, though, that he wasn't.   
  
Before the music had completely stopped, he let the girl go and gently pushed her away from him. The fiddlers played on, and decades of young girls obtruding themselves upon him. He arbitrary, high-handed picked one of them, not even bothering to ask her like he had before, just taking her to the dancing-floor. Hissing softly, inaudible to everyone but Michael, he said, "I swear, on the Goddess Of The Moon, this is the last girl I'll dance with tonight." Michael just gave him a sympathetic smile and patted him on the shoulder, an act of support and pity. 

----------------------------------

  
"Don't forget, children, le-" "Leave before Midnight, leave before the clock strikes twelve, yeah, yeah, we know, we know," Maria cut her mother short, making a reassuring gesture with her hand, "you only told us, like, a thousand times. Don't worry mom, we'll be fine."   
  
After a quick kiss on the cheek, she stepped into the carriage, waiting for Liza and Alex to join her.   
  
"Thank you, Amelia," Liza said, and, following Maria's lead, she gave Amelia a soft peck on the cheek.   
  
"You're welcome, sweetheart," Amelia kindly replied, and she gently pushed Liza into the coach. Ruffling Alex's hair, she told him, "Have fun, son, and take care of my two girls, okay?"   
  
Alex smiled, nodded, and then quickly looked around him, checking the surroundings, looking if someone could see him. When he didn't see anyone, he swiftly leaped forward, giving Amelia a warm hug. "Thank you, Amelia, this really means a lot to Liza."   
  
"I know," Amelia responded, and she tightly hugged him back, "that's why I'm doing this."   
  
Amelia waved and watched until they were out of range of vision, and wished whole-heartily that the children, nearly grown-ups, but still _her_ three children, would be okay. 

----------------------------------

  
The place was crowded, servants and guests swarming everywhere, the ballroom filled with hundreds of young and pretty girls. The room was gorgeous, and Liza's eyes lit up, amazed by the beautiful light and the plentitude of colors and decorations. She looked around, studying the guests and the food, her eyes raking over rows of tables with the most delicious and exotic meals.   
  
And then she saw him.   
  
The Prince, the one she'd been dreaming of her whole life, the one she'd been thinking of the whole evening. He looked… absolutely wonderful… breathtaking… there weren't any words to describe the way he looked, to describe the way he made her feel…   
  
Her stomach flipped and turned, over and over again. It felt as if a hand was gently closing itself around her heart, as if her heart became imbedded in it, immersed in a sea, an ocean, of warmth and love.   
  
Somehow sensing her presence, he opened his eyes, and they met hers, a flicker of recognition visible. Their eyes locked, making Liza feel beautiful and special, but at the same time she was worrying that he might have recognized her. He _couldn't_ recognize her, he _mustn't_. If he did see who she was, then Bertha and Tess would surely find out that she was here, and she'd be in deep, deep trouble.   
  
The sound of the music subdued, and the last notes of the song slowly drifted out of the ballroom, into a dark night. People were muttering, speculating and guessing who she was, what she meant to the Prince, somewhat taken back by their demeanor. She felt their burning, inquisitive stares on her neck, and felt rather ill at ease. They stood there for seemingly an eternity until he finally moved. He crossed the dancing-floor walked towards her, and with every step he took, with every second in which he neared her, her heart couldn't help but beat a little faster, and flutter in excitement.   
  
He was walking to _her_. Was he going to ask her to dance? Was he? 

-------------------------------

  
  
Max paused, just _one_ step away from her, still not pleased with the current distance between them, but aware of the stares people were giving them. She looked so much like _Her_, so incredibly much… He reached out to touch her cheek, to relish in the softness of it, to caress those long, beautiful cheekbones, but stopped in mid-air when he realized what he was doing. She couldn't be _Her_. _She_ had been a normal girl, not a Princess… Her eyes seemed exactly the same, though… The rich chocolate color of them, the light swirls in them… The way they pulled him in, showed him her soul… And her hair… Her hair resembled the hair of _Her_ so much… It seemed just as silky, just as soft, and, even though it was pinned upon her head, he knew that it was just as long… The feeling she gave him was just the same he had had in his countless dreams and fantasies about _Her_. His hand hovered in the air, her face, her hair, her body beckoning him, softly calling his name. Feeling the warmth emitted by her rosy cheeks, he suddenly was hit with reality: who he was, what he was doing and where they were. He reluctantly pulled his hand back and saw something flashing in her eyes. Disappointment. He immediately regretted his decision and, determined to make it up to her, he raised his hand again, holding it out to her.   
  
"Can I have this dance, Milady?" he asked, and he could barely wait for her answer, the need to touch her and hear her voice becoming too much. A happy smile formed itself on her lips and it lit up her face and eyes.   
Loving it, he decided to make her laugh more often, and his heart beat even faster when she happily nodded a 'yes' and placed her tiny, soft hand in his. Unconsciously, he tightened his grip when other men closed in on them, intending to ask her to dance.   
  
She was _his_, he was claiming her, for the first time in his life selfishly using his privileges as Prince, and nobody else would get to dance with her. "I'd… I'd love to dance with you…" she softly, almost shyly, confessed, and her voice sent shivers down his spine. Her gaze crossed his, provoking the most wonderful feeling, the most wonderful dreams, imaginations and fantasies – everything he had conjured up during the years he'd dreamt of _Her_ – to well up inside of him, and for the first time in his life – no, for the second time of his life – he felt perfect, whole again, complete. Leading her behind him, he walked to the dancing-floor, but was stopped by Michael, who was broadly, knowingly grinning at him. "I thought you'd sworn on the Goddess Of The Moon you wouldn't dance anymore?" he sarcastically asked. Max just smiled at him, breezed past him and softly answered him, "She's more beautiful than the Goddess Of The Moon," and silently he added, "and certainly more dear to me…"


	8. Chapter 7

Thnx for the fb guys! You're amazing, and I love each and every one of you!!!

Love,

Katie__

_A Rose Of Cinders _  
  
**Chapter 7 **  
  
Nervously, she placed her hand on his shoulder, her other one in his hand, and looked at him. He looked back at her, also hesitating where to place his hand. Deciding to do it right, he placed it on the small of her back. Carefully listening to the music, he chose a dance. "Waltz?" he asked her, and she nodded, smiling at the excited sparkle in his eyes.   
  
He carefully started to dance, leading her across the room, and she followed, just like her mother had taught her. Soon, they were lost in each other and the music. They danced and danced, in a world where just the two of them existed, and no one else. They were oblivious to the stares, the muttering and rumors. Neither of them noticed the song ending, and when – after some doubting – the fiddlers and pianists continued with a different song, a tango this time, they continued to slow-dance, regardless to the rhythm of the new song.   
  
They had inched closer during the dances, her head now resting on his chest, her eyes closed, blindly trusting him, following wherever he would lead her. It was still hard for her to grasp that she really was dancing with the Prince, that he was dancing with _her _. Unconsciously, a small sigh escaped her lips, unheard by the guests, but noticed by him.   
  
Afraid that she might be bored, he pulled back, checking her facial expression. Her eyes were closed, her beautiful, long eyelashes on her cheeks, her eyelids hiding her beautiful eyes from him. Pulling her closer to him, he lowered his head, smelling the sweet fragrance of her hair, the sweet smell of her perfume. Unable to resist temptation, he gave in, and placed a soft kiss on her crown, his lips lingering there.   
  
"You're a very good dancer," he quietly complimented her as she twirled once more. She looked up, a lovely blush gracing her features, and she shyly answered him, "Thank you, sir. My mother taught me."   
  
"Then your mother has to be an amazing dancer," he stated, but he immediately regretted his words. His words had caused her sadness; it flashed in her eyes and passed over her face.   
  
"She passed away a couple of years ago…" she informed him, her eyes sullen. "I'm sorry…" he began, but she quickly, yet softly protested.   
  
"You couldn't know, sir, it isn't your fault." He nodded reluctantly, still feeling as if he owed her an apology. Another thing that bothered him was the 'sir'-thing. It sounded so distant, as if they didn't know each other, while he felt as if he'd known her for years. "Please, do call me Max, not sir…" he beseeched her softly, and she quietly laughed.   
  
"Of course, Max. Your wish is my command…"   
  
She was teasing him, he noticed, and he liked it, loved it. He loved the thrill it gave him, he loved her soft giggles, he loved the gentle smile on her lips, he loved the twinkle in her eyes. He loved her.   
  
He got the sudden urge to kiss her breathless, to do the things to her he'd dreamt of doing to her. "You want to go somewhere else?" he inquired, and she inquisitively studied his face, not sure of what to say. Nodding, she finally agreed with him. Taking his arm, she asked, "Where to, My-Oh-So-Mighty-Prince?", the teasing smile back on her lips, a quick wink telling him she was kidding. "How about the gardens, My-Oh-So-Dear-Lady?" he retorted, and he winked back at her. He heard Michael sighing disapprovingly, and looked back, seeing him with a petite blonde, shaking his head at Max's sappy behavior.   
  
What could he say?   
  
He was a guy in love…   
  
Besides, Michael looked pretty into the blonde himself, smiling at everything she said. Maybe this ball wouldn't only turn out to be a great evening for him, but would it also become the night of Michael's life…   
  
The cold air of the already fallen night welcomed them when they left the palace. He took her to the botanic gardens, for they were closer than the rose gardens.   
  
"Hey Max!" Ryan, one of the gardeners, welcomed him, a knowing smile on his face when he saw Liza. He was removing the whithered and fallen leaves from the ground and at the same time, he watered the plants.   
  
"Goodnight, Ryan," Max greeted him back, and with a goofy smile he approached the man. "Ryan, this is…" he started to introduce her, but stopped, realizing that he didn't even know her name. "Liza," she said smiling, extending her hand.   
  
"Ryan," he replied, and then added, "but I guess you'd already figured that out." She softly laughed and Max just laughed along, immensely glad when he felt her hand slipping back in his.   
  
"It sure is a bright night," Ryan declared, looking up at the sky, "excellent for stargazing," he added, winking at Max, his head motioning at the lawn in front of his cabin. "It sure is…" Max agreed, and he threw Ryan a smile, guiding his beautiful princess to the lawn.   
  
Carefully in order to keep her dress clean – which was irrational, for it would disappear by Midnight – she sat down on the soft grass. A silence fell, but it wasn't awkward. Peaceful would be a better word to describe it.   
  
Suddenly he spoke up.   
  
"Kyste is shining bright tonight, isn't it?" She silently nodded her agreement, unwilling to break the comfortable silence once more, yet eager to hear his low, pleasant voice again.   
  
"Have you ever heard of its myth?" he gently asked her, his hand reaching for hers. It was amazing how well her tiny hand fitted in his own. She shook her head and looked questioningly at him.   
  
"It's said that there once was a man, a Prince of Antar. He loved a girl so beautiful, but – according to his parents and his people – totally unworthy of him." He saw her stares shifting between the stars and his own face, her gaze resembling feather light caresses, loving touches.   
  
"She was a servant, and he was obligated to marry another woman, a queen of a distant planet. And so he did. He couldn't resist temptation, though, and his love for her was too strong to be ignored. Finally, they both gave way to their feelings. The queen found out, and had them both executed."   
  
The horrible expression on her face pained him, knowing that he had put it there. "It's said that they died with each other's name on their lips, tangled up in an embrace. The sky darkened the moment they were murdered, a solar _and _Third Moon eclipse at the same time. A blinding light flashed before the crowd's eyes, and shot up in the sky, the soft pink and light blue mingling into a star, thence forming Kyste. It's folklore believe that their love will once return to Antar, and into the light of two new star-crossed lovers…"   
  
He trailed off, looking at her. He tried to gauge her reaction, but she just looked up at the sky, a pensive look marking her beautiful features. He awaited a sign, a remark, but she didn't reply, tears shimmering in her eyes, reflecting the moonlight.   
  
"Liza?" he carefully asked her, enjoying the sound of her name on his lips. Great. He'd made her cry. His hand reached out for her face, her cheeks, and he turned her face to his.   
  
"It's such a sad story…" she softly muttered, and he nodded, distracted by her enchanting eyes.   
  
"Have we met before?" he asked her all of a sudden, voicing the question that had kept him busy all night. For a moment, he could have sworn that he saw shock, panic in her eyes, but he must have imagined it, for it was gone when he took a better look.   
  
"I would have remembered…" she replied, her eyes refusing to meet his.   
  
He nodded, then laughingly shook his head. "You're right. It's just… You remember me of this girl I once met…"   
  
A secret smile played on her face, and she laughed quietly. "Should I be jealous?" she teasingly asked him. Blushing, he shook his head. "No… I'll never see her again. Besides, I think my heart has taken a liking in another girl…"   
  
"Really?" she asked, holding her breath. He nodded, and his hand traced her jawbones.   
  
"Could I…" he stammered clumsily, "Could I kiss you?" Shyly smiling, she nodded. He crossed the small distance between them and – after closing his eyes – he placed a gentle kiss on her lips, his heart nearly beating out of his chest. Her sweet lips responded to his, and kissed him back, igniting a fire inside of him. When he extracted to look at her, her eyes were still closed, a blissful smile on her lips. He shifted positions so he could kiss her again, needing more of her lovely taste. She willingly let him, and pulled him down with her.   
  
Time ticked away, and as their kiss grew deeper and more passionate, the hand of the Palace clock had neared the 12. She didn't notice, though, oblivious to anything but Max, totally lost in him. At the first strike of the clock, she hastily pulled back, panic mingling with the feeling of perfection.   
  
"I have to go…" she reluctantly whispered, and kissed him once more.   
  
"Please, do stay…" he murmured against her lips. She remorsefully shook her head, her heart aching at his wistful look.   
  
"Will I see you again?" he beseeched her.   
  
"Tomorrow," she vowed. "I'll see you tomorrow…"   
  
She swiftly exited the gardens, ran through the dining hall, the ballroom and managed to leave the Palace before the last strike. Alex and Maria were already waiting for her, behind the bushes, their knowing smiles mocking her.   
  
"Had fun, Lizzie?" Maria playfully asked her. Liza blushed, following Alex as he left for their coach, which was once more as plain as it used to be, without the Royal decorations. "He wants to see me again," she said.   
  
"I bet he does…" was the response she got from Maria, and Alex just smiled at her.   
  
"Just ignore her," he said. "She's been like that ever since she and Spikey - " "Michael," Maria corrected him, a dreamy look in her eyes, "ever since she and _Michael _" he continued, good-naturedly rolling his eyes, "escaped to his room…"   
  
"Maria!" Liza shrieked, giggles welling up inside of her. "You are _sooo _bad, girl…"   
  
"Am not!" Maria protested, and giggled along with her best friend. "Listen to him… He's got no right to speak at all! He's just as bad as I am…"   
  
"He is?" Liza curiously asked, and Alex shamefacedly looked away.   
  
"Yeah…" Maria nodded enthusiastically, "you should have seen him dancing with the Princess… Tongues tied, hand entangled in her hair, eyes closed, one hand dangerously close to her breasts, an-"   
  
"Maria, stop!" Liza interrupted her. "Too much details! This is my brother we're talking about!"   
  
"Sorry…" Maria apologized, but her expression was nowhere near regretting what she'd just said.   
  
"Do you think Amelia could handle another night?" Liza softly asked, praying that it would be possible. She'd give everything to see Max once more. To kiss him just once more…   
  
"I don't know," Maria answered. "It depends on how she's doing, I guess…" 

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And the story continues... =) I'll honestly try to update more often, if you want me to, okay?   
  
Lots of love,   
  
Katie


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